Perfect Memory
by lifeisshort-sotalkfast
Summary: When Quinn Fabray reconnected with and eventually married Rachel Berry, she thought she'd live the rest of her life in bliss. She had forgotten how cruel life can truly be. . .


Author's Note: This is an angst fic. I mostly wrote it after listening to Three Wishes by The Pierces and thinking to myself: I wonder if I could write an angst-filled fic. Then I remembered a short-movie called Finite (which is only partially similar, but I have a very active imagination) and ran with the idea. I hope you all enjoy and please leave me reviews. :) Also, I'd recommend listening to Perfect Memory by Remy Zero because I put it on just before uploading and it matches the fic so perfectly.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Don't sue.

Also, follow me on Tumblr: lifeisshort-sotalkfast is my penname on there. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

"_You want three wishes/_

_one to fly the heavens/_

_one to swim like fishes/_

_and then one you're saving for a rainy day/_

_if your lover ever takes her love away"_

Three Wishes – The Pierces

* * *

_I'm so sorry, Mrs. Fabray . . . there was nothing we could do._

The words replayed over and over in Quinn's head. Her hands cradled her head, tears streamed down her face, and her elbows rested on her bent knees. Rachel was dead. _Her_ Rachel was dead. It was the only thing that she could grasp as she sat alone in her once shared loft in New York City. _The only thing that mattered._ She was never going to see Rachel again.

She was never going to wake up to her bright smile. Never going to hear her longwinded rants about how her understudy is trying to steal her role. Never going to hear her breakout into an impromptu song. All of it was over. Every dream she had of them growing old and having children – _gone_.

Three harsh knocks from echoed through the silence. "Quinn," a voice called from the outside. It was Santana's. "Quinn, get your ass up and open this door!"

Quinn didn't even flinch. Long used to Santana Lopez's harsh personality. She watched the door as it once again shook with the harsh beating it obtained from the other side. _Why can't they just leave her alone? Didn't they get the hint that she doesn't want to see anyone when she left the hospital and ignored their calls?_

"Dammit, Quinn!" Santana shouted, once again banging on the door. "I know you're fucking in there! Let me in!" She must've delivered a powerful punch, or more likely kick, because the door actually bent a little before snapping back into its original shape. "Don't think I won't bust this fucking door open!"

"What do you want," Quinn finally shouted, hands leaving her hair, as she stood. She walked to the door, but didn't open it.

The Latina's voice finally softened. "I'm worried about you, Q. We all are. You won't answer any of our calls and your mom is a wreck worrying herself over you. It's been six months since Berry's. . ."

"Don't," she warned, leaning her back against the door. "Just don't," she whispered brokenly, eyes closed.

"Let me in, Q," Santana tried. "I just want to see how you're doing."

Quinn contemplated a second before turning to unlock the door. If only because she knew Rachel would've demanded her to. She opened it a fraction and that was it. "I'm alive and breathing. Satisfied?"

Santana's eyes roamed her body from head to toe and she knew she looked like shit. Her eyes were probably bloodshot from all the crying, and her hair was most likely disheveled from her constant tugging. She knew she wasn't fairing any better in the weight department. She couldn't even remember the last time she ate or even had an actual appetite.

"Let me come in," she told her. "Please."

"No." Quinn already wanted her to leave. She wasn't in the mood to have a conversation. She didn't want company. She wasn't ready to _heal_. She didn't want to forget Rachel and move on. She wanted to stay exactly like this. Reliving every memory she has of Rachel even if it hurts. "I'm alive. Goodbye, Santana."

A foot caught the door before she could fully close it and her eyes flashed in annoyance. "You don't look good, Quinn," Santana rushed. "Just let me cook you something to eat at least. You look like you haven't eaten days."

Quinn kept her eyes on the foot wedged between the door and threshold. "I can't," she said quietly, fighting the familiar burn in her eyes. "I can't handle someone coming into our home right now. She was the last person besides me to have stepped foot in here and I know it's insane, but it," her voice trailed off and she shook her head. "It just means something to me, okay?"

Santana let out a long sigh. _Defeated._ She finally drew her foot back and looked at Quinn with saddened eyes. "Just eat something, alright?" She paused before leaving. "You're not the only one who loved her," she said softly. "We're all grieving, Quinn. You don't have to do it alone."

Quinn shut the door and didn't acknowledge her. They may have loved her, but they didn't build their life around her. She walked back to the couch. The last thing Rachel sat on before leaving to work and succumbing to that fucking driver. The words once again began replaying in her head.

_. . . nothing we could do . . ._

_ . . . the driver was drunk . . ._

_ . . . tried to swerve . . ._

_ . . . just didn't see it coming . . ._

Her hands covered her ears, trying to squeeze out all the voices, she clenched her eyes shut and she tilted left as her body finally gave in to sleep.

* * *

_Quinn._

She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming to hear that wondrous voice.

_Baby, wake up._

Quinn eyes snapped open and she shot up. Her heart raced as she gasped for air. She looked around, but couldn't see anything in the darkness. She must've fallen asleep. She stood on shaky legs as she fought off her drowsiness. She walked to the bedroom, bumping into random pieces of furniture along the way. She touched her neck trying to rub away the soreness acquired from sleeping at a bad angle.

She flipped the switch to the bedroom light on before walking into the bathroom and doing the same. She went to the sink and grabbed her toothpaste and toothbrush, avoiding looking in the mirror. She didn't want to see the image of a broken woman. She just wanted to sleep. The only reason she even bothered brushing her teeth was out of routine built by Rachel's constant nagging of good dental hygiene.

"I'm glad you're at least keeping up with your brushing. Now, if only you'd eat."

Quinn whirled around, knowing that voice. She let out a startled gasp as she saw Rachel, alive and well, sitting on the bathroom sink counter looking at her with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile.

"Rachel," she whispered. The room began spinning and her vision blurred. She took a step forward, but lost her balance and crashed in the hard tile floor. Darkness quickly swept into her vision as she lost conscious.

* * *

Quinn woke up with a massive headache and shivering. She let out a low groan as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She looked around and wondered how she managed to fall asleep on the cold bathroom tiles. She then realized she didn't really care. Everything in life became trivial when you no longer had a desire to live it.

She forced herself to stand and went to their bedroom. She looked around and frowned at how neat and clean everything was. Rachel was a whirlwind in the morning and left everything scattered in her wake. She went to their bed and tore the covers off, wrinkling them and then throwing them back on the bed in a heap. The room still didn't look right. Anger swept through her as she went on a rampage, grabbing every article of clothing from the closet and scattering them all over the room. By the time she was done, she was breathing in short breaths and the room was a mess.

_And it still didn't look right._

Quinn leaned against the wall and her eyes closed as she slid to the floor. She curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her calves and leaning her head against her knees. _I_ _miss you._

"I knew you enjoyed cleaning, but I didn't think you enjoyed enough to make a mess just for the purpose."

Her head snapped up with a start, eyes searching the room for the voice. They finally landed on her and she released a shaky breathe. _She was there._ Rachel was sitting on their bed looking at her. Her palm flattened against the wall behind her as she pushed herself up, refusing to break eye contact with Rachel in fear that she'll vanish.

Once she was standing, Quinn did nothing. She didn't move, speak, and hardly let herself breathe as she took in the beautiful girl in front of her. She knew she should be worried for her mental health if she was having hallucinations of Rachel. But it's been so long since she seen her; she didn't want to ruin it yet. She just wanted to take in her form and imagine she was real.

It wasn't until Rachel's mouth quirked into a loving smile that was reserved strictly for her that Quinn panicked.

"I've gone insane," she whispered. She stared wide-eyed at Rachel's form and stumbled back when it moved.

"You're not insane," Rachel said softly. "A lot of people overcome with grief begin seeing the person they miss."

Quinn frowned trying to understand. "You're a figment of my imagination," she guessed.

"I'm here as a way for your mind to seek comfort." Rachel walked to her, her eyes warm, but she stopped a foot away. Her eyes roamed Quinn's body and she frowned. "You need to eat, Quinn. It's not healthy. . ."

Quinn gave a bitter laugh and cut her off. "But seeing _you_ is?"

"Probably not," Rachel reasoned. "But I'm here for as long as you need me to be."

"What if I don't ever not need you? Would you stay forever?"

Rachel frowned in uncertainty. "I . . . you need to move on eventually, Quinn."

Quinn gave a hollow smile. "To who? Who can I possibly move on to after having you?"

Rachel said nothing except give that ever present frown. Something the real Rachel hardly ever did.

Quinn walked past her, leaving plenty of room between the two because she didn't think she could handle it if she went through Rachel as if she really wasn't there. She slipped into bed and just closed her eyes, letting her body slip into unconscious.

* * *

Quinn lied in bed awake, but refusing to pick her face off the pillow. _She_ was still there. Quinn could feel her eyes on her and though she wanted Rachel to be gone when she woke up, a part of Quinn is glad she isn't.

"How long are you staying with me?"

"As long as you need," Rachel responded.

"Good," she whispered. "Don't leave me." Her eyes slipped shut again and drifted into darkness.

* * *

Quinn blinked. She then blinked again as she fought the drowsiness of barely waking up. She sat up and immediately looked to her left, sighing when she saw Rachel still there; sitting against the headboard with a gentle smile.

"Good morning," she said.

Quinn hesitated before repeating the phrase. "Good morning." She kept staring at her and bit her lip. "Would . . . can I touch you?"

Rachel eyes her nervously. "I . . . I don't know."

She moved her hand tentatively toward the brunette and stopped just before connecting with the diva's face when she spoke.

"You shouldn't," Rachel warned softly.

"Why?"

"Because regardless if you can or cannot touch me; it'll only do more damage to your already fragile state." Rachel watched her sadly and bit her lip nervously, just like the real Rachel did. "I'm not her, Quinn."

The statement was enough to shock Quinn and make her pull her hand back as if she got burned. She looked at Rachel with desperate eyes. "You talk like her, you act like her, and you look like her." _Why can't she just be her?_

"I'm only a reflection of the memories you have of her," Rachel said.

"I miss you so much," Quinn confessed brokenly. "Can you just come back? Please. You left me too soon. I'll do anything for you to just come back. Come back to me." Her shoulders shook as unrestrained sobs tore through her. "Please."

"Quinn, stop," Rachel whispered worriedly. "You know that's impossible. Please, don't do this to yourself."

"I don't know how to live in this world without you," she cried, burying her face in her hands. "Every fucking day is a struggle to not just walk in the bathroom and cut open every vein until I'm with you."

"Quinn that's not how I'd want you to join me and you know it," Rachel told her fiercely and she sounded so much like the real Rachel that Quinn found herself calming as she stared at her wife's angered face. And before she could overthink it, Quinn raised her hand and gasped loudly when she made contact with the tanned skin.

Warmth, softness filled her palm and she stared awestruck. "I've gone completely insane," she whispered staring at her hand that was cupping Rachel's cheek. Quinn moved her hand down until it reached Rachel's and she laced them together, staring at the fingers gripping her own in wonderment.

"Everyone's sanity differs," Rachel said. She moved her other hand to their laced fingers and cupped Quinn's hand gently between her own, squeezing it in comfort. Her hands were so warm. They felt so real.

She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Rachel in a tight hug. Her head leaned against Rachel's chest and as she forced herself to simply enjoy the _feeling_ of Rachel; she couldn't force herself to not notice the lack of heartbeat in the brunette's chest. She closed her eyes and cried.

* * *

"I fell asleep," Quinn mumbled tiredly. She lifted her head from Rachel's chest and looked around the darkened room.

"Yes," Rachel responded.

Quinn frowned. "I've been doing that a lot lately. Sleeping."

"Grief takes a lot out of the human body," Rachel comforted.

"I don't even know my days from my weeks anymore," Quinn told her. "It just all meshes into one never-ending day." She turned to Rachel questioningly. "Do you keep track of the time?"

Rachel bit her lip thoughtfully. "It's been two weeks since Santana's visit."

Quinn huffed in disbelief. _Two weeks. _Seven months since Rachel was ripped from her life – it doesn't even feel like one day has passed. She shook her head and stood. She walked out of the bedroom and heard Rachel follow. She didn't pay her any mind until she left the kitchen, finally cooking herself something decent to eat, and went into the living room to start a movie. The opening credits to _Funny Girl_ began and Quinn turned to Rachel expectantly.

"Watch this with me," she asked.

Rachel gave her a breathtaking smile. "When have I ever turned down _Funny Girl_?"

The two watched the movie in silence. Quinn would occasionally steal glances at Rachel and seeing her react so much like the real one – she could pretend everything that had happened was a nightmare she finally awoke from. Quinn felt herself deflate when Rachel's earlier words came to mind.

_I'm only a reflection of the memories you have of her._

A reflection. Never the real thing. And after having the real thing, Quinn could never settle for a simple reflection.

The movie ended a while later and Quinn headed back to the bedroom. She slipped back into bed and crushed a pillow to her chest. The ache that was slowly residing since Rachel showed up began to grow and intensify after her acknowledgment that this Rachel is nothing more than a life-like memory of _her_ Rachel.

"Be here in the morning," she requested. Memory or not – she wasn't ready to let anything Rachel-related go.

* * *

_Quinn!_

Quinn grumbled as she slowly slid back into consciousness. She pushed herself up and rolled her back to relieve some of the tension. She looked around and frowned when she spotted no sign of Rachel.

"Rachel?" Quinn called, panicked. She rushed down the spiral staircase and stopped in shock at the sight that greeted her. Her mother stood in her living room with her face contorted in worry as she looked over Quinn.

"Oh, Quinnie," Judy said fretfully. "You look awful. Have you been eating?"

Quinn ignored her. "How'd you get in here?"

"I used my key." The key Rachel gave to both her fathers and Quinn's mother despite Quinn's protesting.

She wrapped her arms around her middle feeling defensive. Not an uncommon feeling whenever Judy was present. "Get out of my house."

Judy frowned and moved to walk to her, but thought better and stayed where she was. "Quinn, let us help you. You're not alone in this. We're all–"

Quinn cut her off. "There is _nothing_ you or anyone else can do or say that will make any of this better," Quinn said harshly. "Grieving alone or with someone isn't going to make any of this bearable, mom." Her lips quivered as she continued. "She was _it_ for me. It feels like half of my soul was ripped from me and everyone is telling me to find another half."

"Oh, darling," Judy sighed sadly. "Moving on does not mean replacing her."

"No, it means living without her and," Quinn shook her head. "I'm not ready for that."

"Quinn, it's been seven months. . . She wouldn't want you to be like this."

"Get out of my house," she demanded suddenly. "Get out now."

"Quinn . . ."

"Get out of my fucking house!" She shouted, pointing at the door.

Judy startled and with a broken sigh, she turned and left the loft. Quinn stayed there panting before crumbling to the floor as sobs wrecked her body. Her arms hugged her chest as her tears streamed down her face. The only sound heard were the shaky breaths that escaped her lips.

"You should've let her help you instead of throwing all of your misplaced anger at her."

Quinn didn't even flinch when she heard Rachel's voice once again. She raised her tear-streaked face and looked at her, but said nothing.

"Quinn," Rachel started, looking at her sadly. "You can't keep pushing them away. It's not healthy for you to isolate yourself from the outside world."

"Please don't leave me."

Rachel sighed, sitting beside her. "I told you, I'm staying until you no longer need me."

"It's just hard," Quinn said wistfully. "Every time I sleep, I see you. Sometimes there happy memories and sometimes . . . I'm at the hospital," Quinn swallowed as she turned her eyes to Rachel. "You have no idea how you looked when they showed me you," she said quietly. "Your face was so disfigured; swollen. I wanted to believe the body wasn't yours, but then I saw your ring. _My_ ring. And I knew . . . I lost you." Her voiced cracked and she once again broke-down.

Rachel kneeled in front of her with a pained expression. She cupped her cheeks to force Quinn to look at her. "You must stop mourning me," she pleaded desperately. "You must go on and believe that we will meet each other again."

Quinn shook her head, tears streaming down her face; her hands were clasped together over her knees to keep herself from crushing Rachel against her. "I just want you back," she whispered brokenly. Weakly. "Just come back."

"Quinn," she soothed. "You know I'm incapable of doing that. It's impossible."

"Then why the fuck are you here," she lashed out. "What good are you? You're not the real Rachel! So what are you to me?"

"I'm here to com-"

"Nothing," Quinn finished coldly. "You're nothing to me. You're not her and I need _her_, so leave!"

"Quinn . . ."

She clamped her hands over her ears and closed her eyes. "Leave me alone! Get out! Just _leave_!" Quinn cried and looked up, still expecting to see her, but choked when she saw she was alone. "Rachel," she called faintly. She scrambled to her feet and rushed around the loft. Desperate. "Rachel, come back! _Please_. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that! Rachel, please, come back!"

_Nothing._

She ran to her bedroom and wrapped the heavy blankets around her as a shield to the emptiness surrounding her. She continued calling out Rachel's name until her voice gave out and even then, she continued to mumble, begging for Rachel to return. When her eyes grew too heavy for her exhausted body to fight, she succumbed to a restless sleep.

* * *

The next day, Quinn woke up to an empty house. Rachel was nowhere to be found and Quinn walked around the entire loft searching for her. When it was obvious she was really gone, Quinn grabbed her cell and walked outside. She made a phone call and sat with her back against the wall as she waited. She couldn't stay in there in anymore. It was as if she took everything that once held Rachel's presence and sucked it dry until all that was left were the objects themselves.

"Quinn," a voice said softly. She turned and was greeted by Santana's troubled face. She didn't say anything else, though. Only announced her presence and waited patiently for Quinn to follow her out of the building.

Santana silently handed her a pair of sunglasses to protect her eyes after being away from the sunlight for so long. Quinn put them on gratefully and slid into the passenger seat of Santana's car. She drove quietly before turning into a path with open gates and parking against the grass field.

Santana cut the ignition and turned to her. "You sure you want to do this? You don't have to do everything all at once. You can take baby steps."

Quinn shook her head, staring out the window. "No, I need to do this now. I won't be long," she said, opening her door, and getting out.

She walked on the grassy field, passing many loved ones resting places, before finally stopping in front the one that got buried with her heart.

_In Loving Memory of_

_Rachel Barbra Fabray_

_December 18, 1994 – January 23, 2022_

_Daughter, Wife, Friend, _

_and Broadway's Gold Star_

Quinn traced the carved stone with her hand. Her hand lingered on Fabray and she smiled bitterly. "You only got to be called that for two years before you left me," she said quietly. "But they were two _great_ years, weren't they?" Quinn crouched down and sighed. "I haven't really been in a good place since you've been gone," she said conversationally. She laughed self-deprecatingly. "You could say I even went a little crazy."

Her smile dimmed and she bit her lip. "If you were watching me, and you probably were, just know it was only because I couldn't fathom living in a world without you, baby. I still can't. But I know you would want me to. And so I will – for you. Always for you." Her hand glided down the stone slowly. "Wait for me, okay? I'll try not to be long. Meet me on my deathbed to walk me to our eternity."

Quinn stood and let out a shaky exhale. The wind blew a little more roughly and she took it as a confirmation. She stared at the cloudy sky and smiled. "I'll see you soon, baby."

Quinn made her way to Santana's car and got in. Santana once again said nothing as she twisted the key and let the engine roar back to life before they left the graveyard. Quinn looked out her window, feeling lighter than she had in months. She wasn't ready to move on, not by a long shot, but she was ready to at least try and move forward with her life.

_Wherever it may lead her._

* * *

_February 14, 2076_

Quinn was in bed and tired. At the tender age of eighty-two, she knew it wasn't going to be long before she passed. And as she lay in bed, feeling as if she hasn't slept in days when she just woke up; she knew today just might be that day. A part of her welcomed death because after so many years apart – she'll once again be reunited with her lost love. Another part, though, was saddened to be leaving this world and those she came to love behind. But as her eyes grew heavier, she knew she'd have to make peace with it quickly.

Her mind wandered to her husband, Mark, who was downstairs entertaining their two grandchildren. She met him long ago in her youth, she was thirty-four; he thirty, and though she revealed early on that he could never own her heart because it was already buried with her first wife; he still pursued her. Claiming, the heart is a very giving thing and she'd be surprised at how much love it can actually hold. He was a good man and gave her a wonderful daughter and if her heart was hers to give; it would have been his. But it hadn't been hers for a very long time and the most she could give him was some of her affection. He was seventy-eight now, and though it's less than an ideal age, she hopes he can still find someone with a heart that is her own to give.

Quinn's eyes fluttered closed before she forced them to open again. She smiled when she saw Rachel, looking transparent, sitting on the edge of her bed; waiting as she promised. She gave her a bright smile and her lips mouthed words, but Quinn couldn't read them. Her eyes felt like led and with no will to fight her fate, she slipped into darkness one last time.

When her eyes reopened, she was standing right next to Rachel. Her body was solid now and Quinn reached out a hand to touch her, laughing in delight when it brushed against a warm, tan, _real_ face. Her eyes widened when she noticed her hand was lacking the wrinkles they once possessed and she grabbed a piece of her hair to see that it too was different. It was no longer silver, but blonde and Quinn realized she was younger; matching Rachel's age.

She let out a breathless laugh as she stared at Rachel's still smiling face. "I missed you so much," she confessed lovingly. "Say something, please."

Rachel walked into her, grabbing her arms and pulling them around her as she hugged her tightly. "I waited so long for you," she whispered against her ear. She nuzzled Quinn's face affectionately. "I was beginning to worry you forgot about me."

"Never," Quinn promised. "I lived _for_ you."

Rachel smiled and pulled back. She held her hand out and Quinn took it without a second thought. "C'mon," she said, tilting her head. Her voice was warm as she continued. "An eternity of happiness is awaiting us."

Quinn followed Rachel to the bright lights that appeared in front of them. Warmth spread through her body, and everything but Rachel slipped her mind as she passed through the lights.

_Finally home again._


End file.
